Christmas Eve Will Find Me
by impossiblepluto
Summary: Pre-series, post Army. "Mac was home safe and mostly sound, and he fully expected that whatever duty Jack felt to him was now fulfilled." Cross posted from AO3


I'll Be Home For Christmas

... not in my dreams though...

Acrid smoke burned his nose and brought tears to his already blurry eyes. Jack's face suddenly hovered over his own. The ground trembled beneath him. Jack was yelling something Mac couldn't understand over the ringing in his ears.

Mac bolted awake, short gasps exploding from his lungs. His fist came up to press tightly against his mouth. A soft light from the corner of the room, the small Christmas tree Bozer insisted on, bathed the room in a warm yellow glow. Peaceful, calm, reassuring, home. Home. Far from sand and tanks, and unexploded ordinance. It didn't feel real yet. He kept expecting to wake up in the Sandbox, as if he'd never left. And in some ways he worried that he never would.

He focused on his breathing, trying to slow it, to ground himself in the moment.

The house was still quiet. Either he'd managed to wake up before he screamed, or Bozer was finally listening to him about not trying to wake him from a nightmare. He'd clocked his roommate the first night. Even in sleep, in the throes of a nightmare his aim surprisingly steady and strong and he'd sent Bozer reeling. When he'd woken enough to realize what he'd done it was like his heart was strangled in a vice, and it squeezed tighter each time he remembered or caught a glimpse of Boze's blackened, swollen eye.

Mac rolled over slowly to glance at the clock. Just before five. It was a reasonable time to get up. Well, not reasonable, but people did it. And it was Christmas Eve, which would work as an excuse.

Mac slid to sit on the edge of the bed, the cam boot clunked hard on the floor. He still felt awkward, asymmetrical with the boot. He would forget it was there and bang it against furniture, scuff it against the hardwood floors, and smash it against his other ankle, especially when he thrashed in his nightmares.

Mac rested elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. He could hear faint noises resume in the kitchen and realized Bozer had probably heard him. He wondered if moving back in with his friend was the best idea or if it gave the other man too close a look at the horrors Mac had lived through.

He could never keep a secret from Bozer. The man could read his face like a book, and saw through his lies and half-truths in an instant. It was a good thing he'd been recruited by the Army and not some shady clandestine organization.

Mac ran a shaky hand through short hair, though still much longer than regulations required. He'd grow it out. Distance himself from his Army days anyway he could, and that included his hair.

He'd been home for a week now, trying to pick up pieces of a life left behind. How do you pick up a life you hadn't even started living yet?

He rubbed his temples, trying to ward off the headache that had plagued him since... since the mission he couldn't remember. Just flashes that came to him in nightmares. The only thing he could clearly remember before waking up in a hospital was Jack.

The doctors told him the memories might return, but not to push it.

Jack told him he hoped they didn't, but refused to elaborate.

He missed Jack. After living in each other's pockets the last few years this week apart left Mac feeling isolated. They hadn't really talked about what was next, too busy dealing with the aftermath of the mission, Mac's surgery and their subsequent trip stateside. And Mac had slept through most of that.

Now, Jack was stuck in DC doing, who knew what. Mac had always suspected that Jack wasn't just an average grunt. He just seemed to know too much. He had too many connections, too many people who owed him extensive favors. His extended debriefing seemed to lend credence to the idea there was more to Jack's history than Mac was aware.

Aside from a few rushed phone calls, mostly Jack checking in to make sure Mac was recovering, they hadn't had a chance to talk. Mac was looking forward to Jack's impending arrival this afternoon to spend Christmas with him.

He was surprised when Jack said he was coming. He expected that Jack couldn't wait to get back to the Dalton homestead. When they'd met, all Jack talked about was going home to Texas. Even after he re-upped a lot of Jack's post Army discussions included Texas, though those discussions became more infrequent as time passed. Mac assumed this was due to homesickness and possibly regret at his longer than expected tour. He would always be grateful that Jack had stuck around as long as he did. But, Mac was home safe and sound, so he fully expected that whatever duty Jack felt to him was now fulfilled.

He was surprised by how much that idea hurt.

No matter how much he tried to prevent attachment, Jack had managed to circumvent the walls Mac had put up. He wouldn't admit it but he valued the older man's opinions and approval. When he was overwhelmed he looked to Jack for strength. When he started to get lost in his own head, Jack was there to pull him back. Losing the safe haven that Jack had become would be a serious blow.

But Jack didn't owe him anything. He'd already done more than Mac could ever ask for.

So, they'd celebrate a special first Christmas home; that had to be the reason Jack decided to come to California. Some sort of sentimental 'I'll be home for Christmas' that Mac didn't quite understand. Then at the end of the visit, Jack would say goodbye and they would part ways. Probably for good.

And Mac will be fine. He'd survived worse. He absolutely didn't feel sick at the idea.

* * *

Bozer felt like he was tiptoeing around Mac. Metaphorically, for the most part. Though Mac had woken from a nap on the couch and had caught him mid tiptoe yesterday. In so many ways having Mac around felt comfortable, like no time had passed.

Then there were moments like this. Muffled rustling and a strangled cry came from Mac's room. He waited and listened, wanting nothing more than to burst into Mac's room and wake him. It was hard to keep himself from doing that, even knowing how hard a punch Mac could throw, even in sleep. He didn't particularly care if he got another black eye for his trouble, he just couldn't stand to see the guilt on Mac's face again.

In the last few months, Bozer had joined a support group for families of returning veterans, not for himself but in preparation for the day Mac returned home; to help his friend put Afghanistan behind him. He will always remember the first time he saw that haunted look on Mac's face, over Skype, and realized his friend would never be quite the same.

He was just about to start dropping pots and pans, to raise such a clatter that Mac would spring from his bed, when he heard the now familiar clunk of Mac's foot and boot hitting the floor.

Bozer was on a mission to make this the best Christmas ever. Getting the news that Mac was coming home, getting discharged and would be back in the States by Christmas took away some of the sting of hearing that Mac was injured and thousands of miles away in an Army hospital undergoing surgery.

Getting that call from Jack that Mac had been injured seriously enough to get him med evac'd out had been Bozer's fear since Mac first shipped out. Jack had kept him updated throughout, and he was incredibly grateful.

He had met Jack via Skype, not too long after the man had re-upped to continue watching Mac's back. Bozer remember the first time he heard about the knuckle dragging neanderthal, and the venom in Mac's voice as he complained about him. How that slowly changed to begrudging respect and eventually friendship. Bozer became a fan of Jack long before Mac did, recognizing in Mac's stories how his Overwatch valued his life, and did everything he could to keep him safe. To keep Mac from taking insane risks. Bozer appreciated anyone who could keep up with Mac long enough to keep him out of trouble.

Bozer was excited, and if he was honest, just a little nervous about meeting the man Mac spoke of like a brother.

And he hoped Jack would help with the nightmares, be able to get Mac to talk where Bozer couldn't . Mac tried to protect his friend. No matter how Bozer tried to understand what Mac had gone through, was going through, he couldn't.

Jack would arrive today. The first time Bozer would meet the man in person and he wanted everything Hallmark movie perfect.

Bozer heard the step-clunk announcing Mac's arrival. He headed straight for the coffee maker.

"You're up early," Bozer observed, trying to gauge Mac's mindset this morning.

Mac shrugged. "So are you."

"It's Christmas! Gifts to wrap, stockings to stuff, pastrami to smoke, coated in my special 'Seasoning's Tidings' rub," Bozer said with a smile, holding up the bowl filled with nearly half the spices from the rack.

Mac groaned. "You need new material, or new friends. I've heard that pun before."

"Lucky me, I get a brand new audience this year. One that will appreciate my sense of humor."

"Or he'll just try to out pun you." Mac said, grimacing at the idea as he stirred his coffee.

"Out pun me? Never gonna happen."

"Then this could be a very long week." Mac step-clunked across the kitchen.

"And be careful there," Bozer said gesturing to the counter in front of Mac. "Don't drip your coffee on that fabric. I gotta finish putting together Jack's Christmas stocking."

Mac looked down at the swatches of red and white faux fur and then back up at Bozer and raised an eyebrow.

"Since he's opting to spend his first Christmas out of the service here in California with us, rather than back in Texas, I wanted to make him feel at home here. And what better way to know you're welcome than to have a stocking hanging over the fireplace. Besides," Bozer confessed. "I feel a little pressure to make this Christmas special. Do it up right with all the trimmings and traditions, in a very classic Christmas kind of way."

"We spent the last few Christmases eating turkey loaf and sand in a tent. That's not hard to beat."

"I know you were never much for the traditions, no matter how much your granddad or my family tried, but don't insult me by setting that bar so low that I couldn't even trip over it." Bozer continued. "I just want to let him know how much I appreciate him watching out for you. I know that job isn't easy."

Mac protested.

"I know you, Mac. I spent years chasing after you. And that was when your only real enemy was Donnie Sandoz. I know what you can be like when you get your mind set on something. I'm grateful I'll have the chance to thank him in person for getting you home in one, albeit cracked, piece."

"Great, you guys can bond over bad puns and how hard it is to keep me out of trouble."

"Every friendship's gotta start somewhere. I hope we get along."

"Jack's an easy guy to get along with," Mac reassured.

"Says the man who got punched in the face the first time you met."

"I feel like context is really important in that story. It's not like he just hauled off and hit me."

"That's what it sounded like the first time I heard it."

Mac sighed, "I guess I was angry when I told you about that, but-"

"I'm just playin'," Bozer teased. "Seriously though, man, I'm a little surprised that he's not going back to Texas. I thought he had a big family out there."

"He didn't really say, just that he was coming after he finished debriefing," Mac sighed. "They've kept him pretty busy with meetings all week. We haven't really had a chance to talk."

"How did you manage to get out of all that?"

Mac swallowed a sip of coffee with a look of contemplation. "I guess they realized the explosion rattled my brain enough that nothing stuck. Plus, he was a career soldier, they're probably debriefing years of missions and intel."

"You really don't remember anything that happened?" Bozer asked cautiously. Talking about Mac's military career was always a sore spot between them, and even more so this last week. Bozer could tell that Macs's discharge chafed him. That he was carrying around guilt at his perceived failure and regret that he was leaving behind men who counted on him.

Mac shook his head.

It worried Bozer how Mac's eyes grew distant. He seemed to drift off in thought. That, in itself, was nothing new, Mac always had a brainful of ideas that could keep his mind busy, but now it seemed like Mac could get lost in there if he wasn't careful.

Mac visibly shook himself back to the present. "He's probably just coming out to say goodbye."

Bozer could see the tension mounting in Mac's shoulders. How his eyes narrowed trying to ward off another headache that Mac thought Bozer didn't know about and decided to change the subject. Launching into a ramble that he knew would help Mac relax.

"Well, I went with a smokier mesquite for the rub this year. I hope it will evoke feelings of Texas. And I have got a to do list a mile long yet. And don't think you're getting out of work just because you're clomping around with a bum leg. You'll have to hold down the fort so I can run some last minute errands this afternoon."

* * *

"Thanks man," Jack said, getting out of the Uber. "Merry Christmas, happy holidays."

He turned to look at the house and smiled. He slung his bag over his shoulder and sauntered up the long drive. He could see Mac living here, making a home for himself. Safe, secure, and far, far away from the Army.

He paused, musing over the meetings and debriefings he'd spent the last week engrossed in. Contemplating the intriguing offer he'd received... they'd received, though Mac didn't know about it yet. Jack wasn't sure how to bring it up, or if he wanted to. He'd finally gotten Mac home. He didn't want to throw Mac right back into danger.

Jack heard a car pulling in behind him, and turned, alert as ever. He recognized Bozer through the windshield immediately, returning the wave, though less frenetic.

Bozer parked the car and hurried over to meet Jack, a huge smile on his face.

"Hey, Jack! Glad you could make it," Bozer said enthusiastically. His arms flailed a bit in front of him as he started to reach out, but then unsure of what type of greeting to give the man he'd never actually met in person, but wanted to thank for saving Mac's life and bringing him home. He couldn't seem to keep the nervous energy from radiating off him in waves.

Jack took pity on him, catching one of Bozer's hands and pulling him into a half bro hug.

"Thanks for the invite, man," Jack clapped him on the back. "Nice place."

Bozer turned to look at the house. "Yeah, place like this should cost a fortune, but Mac's granddad bought it like fifty years ago and got it for a steal."

Jack nodded. He was happy Mac had a place to call home.

Bozer shuffled, as if the man that barely paused to take a breath while he was Skyping with Mac was suddenly at a loss for words. "I'm glad you're here."

"He do that?" Jack gestured to the bruise surrounding Bozer's eye.

"Not on purpose," Bozer said quickly, his fingers skimming across his bruised skin.

"Nightmares." It wasn't a question of if, but how many.

"Every night he's been back."

Jack nodded. Aw, Mac. He'd held onto some ridiculous hope that the kid would be spared reliving the war once Jack got him home.

"He's gonna be really happy to see you," Bozer said grinning again. "I think he's already going a little stir crazy."

"Gotta keep that kid busy or he gets into trouble," Jack agreed.

A blinding flash of light from inside the house, follwed by a dull roar that rattled windows. Then the high pitched shriek of a smoke detector.

Jack bolted for the front door, flinging it open with a bang as it bounced against the wall. Bozer followed on his heels.

"Mac!" Jack yelled, heading for the kitchen where the smoke was the thickest. He heard Bozer's echoing call.

Mac was scrambling on the floor where he'd been knocked. His eyes wide, scanning the area. His breath coming in short quick gasps, his body tense.

"Mac," Jack stopped just before entering the kitchen and called out slowly, his voice quiet. His hand reached out to stop Bozer from going further into the room. "It's Jack. We're home, bud. We're in California. And you're apparently making rocket fuel in your kitchen. I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"

Mac's breathing started to slow as he listened to Jack's monologue. He looked up in surprise. "Jack?" His brow furrowed. His eyes roved the kitchen.

"Right here, hoss," Jack said, slowly moving towards Mac and squatting down next to him. He kept talking, trying to ground Mac in the moment. "Damn son, I know you wanted me to feel welcome, but I can do without the fireworks."

Bozer grabbed a fire extinguisher from under the sink and made quick work putting out the small flames that still licked at the project that had blown up in Mac's face, and the objects smouldering on the countertop.

Mac looked up at Jack with a grin. Soot smudged his face and his faded NASA sweatshirt. He coughed, waving away tendrils of smoke that curled around him. "You made it."

"Yeah, easy to find. I should have known the MacGyver residence would be the only house on the block that's on fire." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Bozer, you good?" Jack asked.

Bozer ran around the kitchen opening windows, turning on the hood over the stove to clear the smoke. "It's under control."

"Mac and I are gonna get some air," Jack said, a strong hand on Mac's arm. He could feel Mac trembling under his touch. "Can you stand?" Mac nodded but accepted Jack's help out to the deck.

Jack lowered Mac into a chair. He caught Mac's chin with one hand, peering into Mac's eyes. His other hand running through Mac's hair. "You hit your head at all?"

Mac coughed and tried to shake his head, still caught in Jack's grip.

"Dizzy, blurred vision, headache?"

"No more than usual," Mac mumbled, pulling his chin from Jack's grasp. Jack hooked a foot around the chair next to Mac and scooted it closer.

"That's still going on?" Jack asked concerned. He took Mac's hands in his, looking for burns or pieces of shrapnel. He had too many memories of doing this in the Sandbox, and Mac had too many scars on his long fingers. Jack watched Mac start to relax as they fell into a familiar motion.

"Sometimes, not consistently, but yeah. Post concussive syndrome."

"You rang your bell pretty good the first time. And I'm sure your doctor didn't want you involved in a second explosion so quick."

"Don't mention that I'm still having symptoms. Bozer doesn't know. And I've got a follow up the day after Christmas."

"Alright, I'll go with you."

"Didn't you hear?" Mac asked with a half smirk on his face; a strange smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I got myself a discharge. You're finally free of the slowest bomb nerd in the Army."

Jack couldn't help the hurt expression that crossed his face, surprised by Mac's words.

"Phew!" Bozer said, interrupting the moment. He mock wiped his brow as he joined them on the deck. "Glad that I haven't forgotten how to put out fires since you've been away. Muscle memory right there. It all just came rushing back."

Mac let out a chagrin half laugh. "Sorry, Boze."

"I thought we'd agreed that you weren't gonna break out the chemistry set until at least New Years," Bozer half scolded.

"I was trying to makes some improvements to the smoker. I felt bad that you were up before five to start on the pastrami," Mac began.

"Pastrami?" Jack interrupted with confusion, eyeing Mac carefully in case he'd missed something during his quick once over of his partner.

"You didn't tell him about the Christmas pastrami?" Bozer asked incredulously, looking from Mac to Jack. "Jack, you are in for a treat! I know, I know, no one ever wrote a carol about the Christmas pastrami. It's usually a turkey or maybe a goose, but I don't know how it's been overlooked all these years because there is nothing like a slab of slow smoked meat with my own home made rub. I call it-"

Mac interrupted Bozer's pun which earned him a glare. "I came up with an idea that should cut cooking time at least in half."

"Mac, you about burned your face off. No offense to your tinkering but I think I'll just stick to the old fashioned way." Bozer leaned in to look at his friend. "You didn't do any more damage to yourself, did you?"

Mac lightly shoved Bozer out of his space. "Jack already checked me for a concussion, I'm fine."

Bozer looked at Jack for confirmation.

Jack shrugged. "I don't think his brains are any more scrambled than they were before."

"Well, that's a relief," Bozer said. "Jack, I'll leave him in your capable hands, while I take stock of the kitchen."

"Do you need any help?" Mac asked starting to get up.

"No, no," Bozer said quickly, heading into the house "You guys just relax, catch up. I'll call if I need anything."

Jack studied Mac's face carefully. He slowly crossed his arms.

Mac kept glancing over at him, clearly uncomfortable with Jack's intense gaze. "I'm fine. You said so yourself."

"Nah, I said your brains weren't more scrambled than normal, but something's up. What's eating you?"

Mac threw a confused stare in Jack's direction; raising his eyebrows as if he didn't know what Jack was talking about. And possibly he didn't. Jack was never quite sure what went on in Mac's brain. For a smart guy he could be kind of dumb.

Jack continued to watch him and Mac squirmed under his gaze. "You mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" Mac asked looking up.

"That I couldn't keep you safe. That I had to ship you the rest of the way home alone, cause let me tell you that's been weighing on me."

"I wasn't upset that you weren't here. I understood."

"Are you upset that I'm here now?" Jack asked. There was definitely something taking up too much space in his friend's brain, and he fished for answer. If he asked the right questions he knew Mac couldn't keep it a secret.

"What?" Mac asked in surprise. "No! I'm glad you're here. I kind of missed you."

Jack grinned. "I've missed you too, kid."

"I'm gonna miss you when you leave," Mac mumbled, looking away.

"You kicking me out?"

Mac turned back, still looking confused.

"I mean, I planned on getting my own place, but until then, I thought you'd let me crash here."

"What about Texas?"

"My cousin Nick can't take the time off around the holidays either, so we'll go in January, for like a week. We don't do pastrami, but I think you'll find a few Dalton family Christmas traditions that you enjoy."

"I'm going with you?"

"Yeah, we've talked about this, remember? I've been promising you Christmas on the ranch for years. You're probably gonna have to sit at the kids table, but I don't think they'll give you too rough an initiation."

"But you're not staying there?"

"It'll be hard to keep working together if we're in two different states. I just assumed that you'd want to stay in California, but if you want to change our base of operations, I'm flexible."

Jack had to work hard to keep from laughing at Mac's expression. He'd never seen the kid's brain scrambling to catch up, at least not written so clearly on his face. "Hey kid, why do I feel like we're having two different conversations?"

"I thought this was... I just... you always talked about going home to Texas."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, and about two years ago those plans changed."

Mac looked up in surprise, and maybe, Jack could see relief.

"Dalton and MacGyver Security, Mac and Jack Investigations, JacGyver Consulting, any of these idea sound familiar?"

"I assumed you were kidding."

"Everything else I've ever said in my entire life you take seriously, except the important stuff, like keep your head down, don't go wandering off, and that we shouldn't break up our partnership when our tour was up."

Mac shrugged. "The first sixty-four days I knew you it's all you talked about."

"And on the sixty-fifth day where was I?"

"You stayed," Mac said softly. Jack could see Mac's emotions were bubbling close to the surface.

Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair. He'd messed this up. Everything had happened so fast, Jack felt like his own head was spinning and he wasn't dealing with a spotty memory and a concussion. He also wasn't the one with trust issues. Sending Mac on ahead had seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. Get Mac somewhere safe, where he could lay low and recover. Jack now saw his mistake. Mac was out of it enough to feel like he'd been abandoned. Jack was far enough away that he couldn't provide the reassurances that he wasn't. He vowed to do better in the future.

"Hey, kid, we've been through a lot these last few weeks. We don't need to make any big decisions about what we're doing next. Until you're medically cleared I'm not even gonna tell you about some of the more interesting offers that have been extended to us just this week. We've apparently made a name for ourselves."

* * *

Epilogue

Christmas 2016

"One of these years, I am going to catch you guys in the act!" Bozer yelled from the living room.

Riley shot a puzzled glance at Mac and Jack who were cackling. "What's he yelling about?"

Bozer stalked into the room, waving a white crew sock. "They think they're so funny."

Riley leaned back to keep the sock from hitting her in the face. "What is that?"

"It's not Jack's stocking," Bozer groused. Holding out the white sock with Jack's name written in puffy paint.

"Oh, I was gonna ask about that..." Riley started, but Jack interrupted.

"Don't ask, Riles," Jack said snickering.

"First year they were home, Mac blows up the smoker, and lights the kitchen on fire, and also Jack's stocking, that I made special to welcome him to the family."

"And I appreciated it. It looked like it was a beautiful Christmas stocking," Jack said seriously to Riley.

"It was ashes when you saw it, Jack," Mac laughed.

"And Mac, feeling bad about destroying my hard work, made this." The sock waved in Bozer's animated hands again.

"I kinda liked it," Jack said.

"And since Santa only brings him coal, he doesn't really need anything better than that," Mac concluded.

"One of these jokers keeps bringing this monstrosity back and replacing the beautiful hand made stocking, that I have now created twice," Bozer continued. "But they both deny it. I have burned this sock, and it still keeps coming back."

"Come on, Bozer," Jack said. "You enjoy this."

"Yeah," Mac laughed. "All families have their weird Christmas traditions. This is ours."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. The epilogue came from a screen cap of the team's christmas stockings in 1x11. Cross posted from AO3


End file.
